Get Sherlock
by thedominatrixandthevirgin
Summary: Months passed after Karachi and Sherlock Holmes is finding it harder and harder to distract himself from The Woman. So when she shows up at his door with a small gift, he is more than a little overwhelmed. Will he be able to put aside his emotions and think rationally? Or will The Woman be sticking around Baker Street?


John Watson sat across from his therapist, who gazed on with a sympathetic smile, and took a deep breath. Was he really here again? After all these years. Same lady, same problem.

"You have to say it, John." She told him kindly. Unlike last time, it was a gorgeous day outside. The birds sang happily, one of those days you just knew there were families out having picnics and enjoying each other's company. However inside the room, an ex army doctor's life had collapsed once more.

"I know. Just… gimme a second." John swallowed, trying to fight the tears threatening to surface. "I'm here because.. oh Christ," he laughed angrily. This was beyond belief. "I'm here because I've lost my best friend. Again."

It had been around four months since the events in Karachi, and life had more or less fallen back into place in Baker Street. The Woman was gone, Mycroft hadn't been in touch in weeks. All was well. Boring, but well.

Sherlock was moping around the flat one Friday, complaining to John about how bored he was after John had confiscated his gun.

"Get a case!" John sighed in exasperation, more than fed up with the other man's moping. He had been like this for about four months now. Ever since John had told him that Irene Adler had been put in witness protection. He knew Sherlock would never admit it, but he knew that he was missing her. And that he was upset he would not get to see her again. With the knowledge John had, this just about broke his heart.

"There isn't a good enough case!" Sherlock sighed heavily. "They're all boring. Mundane. Ordinary." He moved from his spot on the sofa to the desk, flipping open his laptop and scrolling through his emails. "Please Mr. Holmes, help me find my dog. Mr. Holmes, my jar of pound coins went missing!" He read, shaking his head disappointedly.

John rubbed his forehead. "Maybe we'll get a client dropping by today. You should get dressed." He sighed, leaning back in his seat. "Ditch the sheet."

"I don't get dressed for anything less than a seven anymore, John. I told you yesterday. Lately I haven't even found a decent three." Sherlock sighed heavily, wrapping his sheet closer around himself.

John rolled his eyes. "No potential client is going to take you seriously looking like you just stepped out of Ancient Rome or something."

Sherlock simply rolled his eyes in return and continued scrolling through his emails. "What I wouldn't do for a seven to come knocking on the door. Oh god, a ten. Imagine?" He mused to John.

John rolled his eyes just as there was one solid knock on the door. "That just might be your ten."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and looked round. "One knock? Not a client." He muttered and looked at John expectantly. "Well, aren't you going to get that? I'm not dressed."

"It's your turn." John said simply, leaning back in his seat and picking up his newspaper.

"Oh for God sake." Sherlock muttered and stood up, walking over to the door in his sheet. He was careful as he walked down the flat's stairs so that he didn't trip on it, muttering to himself about how annoying John was being today. He ruffled his hair as he opened the door, preparing to tell the salesman/Avon lady/religious representative to go away. He opened the door lazily and had to take a moment. "Oh. God." He blinked when he spotted her.

Irene Adler looked up as the door in front of her opened, a small smirk ready on her lips and a hand resting on the small bump protruding from her abdomen, unhidden by her tight, black dress. "Long time, no see, Mr Holmes."

Sherlock blinked at her for a moment before scanning her body, his eyes resting on her small bump. "Nope. No." Sherlock said, setting his lips in a thin line. His eyes met hers again and shook his head calmly. "No, no, nope." He muttered, gathering his sheets and turning his back to climb the stairs.

John raised an eyebrow as he returned to the flat, looking up at him. "Salesperson?"

"Nope." Sherlock breathed and marched past John, slamming his bedroom door. He reached into his chest of drawers and pulled out his clothes.

Irene walked up the stairs after a moment, an amused look on her face. She walked into the flat and looked around before sitting down in Sherlock's armchair. "So, Dr Watson. I'm not dead."

John stared at Irene with a look of utter shock. "I- oh my God. Miss Adler.. Irene." He blinked, taking a moment to think. He sighed after a moment with a small smile. "It would take Sherlock Holmes to fool him. So he did save you after all." He shook his head fondly.

"Mmm, he did indeed. What a gentleman." She smirked a little and leaned back in her seat. "Even left me with a parting gift." She glanced down at her stomach with a neutral expression.

John raised an eyebrow and followed her eyeline down to her tiny bump. "Oh. Oh, wow." He breathed before rubbing his forehead. "Oh god.."

"That's quite a tame reaction." She smirked a little and looked over to Sherlock's room. "He's having a meltdown, isn't he?"

At that, Sherlock appeared from his room fully dressed, wearing an unreadable expression.

"You should feel flattered. He doesn't get dressed for anything less than a seven these days. So this is at least a seven." John smirked over to Irene, because he had absolutely no idea what else to do than joke.

"A seven. Ha." Sherlock breathed and walked into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water. "The universe has outdone itself this time. I only begged for a ten. It's delivered a four hundred and ten."

Irene smirked a little at that and watched him from over John's shoulder. Only she would land in this situation with a man like Sherlock Holmes. No one ever did have a clue what was going on in that head. "I could do with one of those." She said quietly.

Sherlock poured a second glass and carried it through, mentally scolding his body for giving him away with his shaking hands. He swallowed and handed Irene the glass, forcing himself not to look down to her stomach. "But, other than that, keeping well?" He asked forcing himself to sound half casual.

"Well I'm not dead, or dying. Always a plus. And no one's after me since they think I'm already dead. Life's pretty good." She took the glass and took a sip. "I can't sleep on my front anymore, that kinda sucks." She said equally as casually.

"Yeah, it's not recommended pregnant women sleep on their front." Sherlock nodded, and sat on the floor next to John's armchair. He took a deep breath and eyed the front door, planning an escape route.

"If you leave this flat, I promise you I will make the rest of your life a living hell." Irene said calmly as she sipped her water. "It's hard enough acting as if everything is fine without you having a meltdown."

"I'm not having a meltdown. Who's having a meltdown? All that's happened today is that Irene Adler's appeared, pregnant, at my door. Why on earth would I leave?!" Sherlock started to rant before jumping up and pacing the living room.

Irene rolled her eyes a little. "If you're wondering, I'm four months pregnant and there's only one male I've slept with in that time." She looked at him pointedly.

"I know." Sherlock breathed, rubbing his face as he paced. "Oh god. Oh my god." He growled in the back of his throat. "Fucking Karachi." He muttered.

"Mr. Holmes, don't act as though you regret it." She looked over to John conspiratorially. "He wasn't exactly hiding his enjoyment."

John shifted awkwardly and his face turned slightly pink. "Oh. Okay." He nodded and cleared his throat. Hearing about his best mate's sexual encounters with The Woman was so not how he thought this morning would go.

"Oh, no, this is great. Well worth it." Sherlock nodded as he continued to walk the length of the living room.

"I told you you should have brought a condom." She shrugged a little and put her glass down, sitting forward.

"I didn't save you just so we would-" Sherlock started to hiss but was interrupted by John standing up.

"Yeah, I think this is a private sort of conversation." John gave them a small smile, his face red now. "Sherlock, sit down. Speak properly. You know.. use your words." He told him before walking to put on his jacket. "Irene, lovely to see you. As always." He nodded.

Irene gave John a mock salute before turning back to Sherlock. "Well you really should have thought of that before you pinned me against the wall. What did you expect was going to happen? We'd shake hands and go on our way?" She shifted to lean back on the seat and crossed her legs, her bump nowhere near big enough to disturb her yet.

"You were crying! I was just checking you were okay! And then you.. gave me that look. Don't even act like you don't know which one." Sherlock bit the inside of his cheek and sat down on John's chair. "Doesn't really matter now though, does it?"

"You pushed me against the wall!" She scoffed. "With your hips." She shook her head at him slightly. "No... I guess not. All that matters is that we did. Neither of us used protection and surprise, in five months time we'll have the most fucked up child in history."

Sherlock nodded along with her before frowning slightly. "Wait, no I never! You kissed me first!" He argued, leaning his cheek against his fist.

She actually laughed at that. "Oh you liar! We got back to that room and you pushed me against the wall! And looked into my eyes. So what are you saying? You had to press me against the wall to inspect for tears?!"

Sherlock was about to get annoyed when he caught her eye and paused. "Well, yeah. Sure. I had to press you against the wall to inspect for tears. Obviously. And then again in the bathroom. I thought you were crying again." He bit his tongue before starting to laugh.

She bit her lip around a small grin at that. "And in bed...several times. Oh and in the bath. And how could I forget on the chair?" She started to laugh with him, shaking her head fondly. "How we thought I wouldn't get pregnant is beyond me."

"Well it was a very emotional night. I was sure you were near tears several times and had to check." Sherlock chuckled and stroked his lip idly. "Obviously, I should have taken condoms. But I genuinely didn't plan it. The plan was rescue you, get you out of Karachi, then leave." He sighed. "Without sounding insensitive, didn't you think of the morning-after pill when you got to America the next day?"

Irene sighed a little. "Oh, I took it. I'm not that much of an idiot. But I must have caught something in Karachi, I was ill for like a week afterwards. It obviously didn't take." She rubbed her forehead. "So this is where we are."

Sherlock nodded and shifted in his seat. "That won't er… that wouldn't have hurt it, right? Taking the morning-after pill but it not working?" He asked quietly, glancing once to her belly. His baby was in there. His actual child, that he and The Woman had created. Inside her, being nurtured and protected by her.

She shook her head and looked back down at her stomach. "It wouldn't have affected it. I just threw it up before it had a chance to work. The baby is fine. Well, I assume so."

Her voice brought Sherlock back from his paternal thoughts and he frowned. "You assume? You didn't get a 10 week scan?!" Sherlock asked, sitting upright. "What've you been doing for fifteen weeks?"

"Panicking mostly." She admitted. "I just kept putting it off..." She sighed before smiling faintly. "Look at you, getting all concerned."

He took a deep breath and nodded, leaning back again. "Sorry." He swallowed and crossed his legs. "So. Question burning on everyone's mind. What are you.. you know.. doing with it?" He asked guiltily. He didn't like to refer to their baby as an 'it', but in the interest of time he couldn't possibly get attached now.

"Honestly... I have no idea." She admitted quietly. "Hence why I'm here. It's your decision too, it's your child as much as it's mine." Their baby. Their baby she'd forced herself to stay emotionally detached from since the day she found out.

Sherlock stood up again and walked around the flat, thinking. He was mostly just trying to not become overwhelmed. Which was becoming increasingly difficult. Irene Adler, fifteen weeks pregnant, in his flat. Looking for help. With his child. He turned to look at her and swallowed. "Your life is so hectic. And dangerous. And mine's not any better." He mused quietly.

She nodded in agreement. "And I'm probably the least maternal person in

existence...and you the least paternal." She murmured, looking down at her stomach and taking a deep breath. "I think we both know what we have to do. And I think we've known it since I stepped foot in here."

Sherlock swallowed hard and blinked sadly. "God." He breathed and sat back down across from her. "We couldn't bring a child up. It.. it just wouldn't be fair on the kid. Having us as parents." He muttered.

She took a deep breath. "Exactly, and neither of us have stable lives...people are going to start noticing I'm alive soon and I will not let them use an innocent baby against me." She said firmly.

"No. No, that's.. that's an excellent point." Sherlock nodded, tears stinging the backs of his eyes. "So. We're agreed. It's not fair to any child to introduce it to our lives?" He confirmed, looking up to meet Irene's eyes.

She nodded a little but couldn't meet his eyes, her hand absentmindedly moving to cup her bump, almost in an act of protection. "Yes. And I will not put myself through 5 more months of pregnancy to lose my child. So...termination."

Sherlock bit the inside of his cheek and cleared his throat. "Yes. It's the only responsible answer." He nodded firmly. "The most skilled parents in the world wouldn't be able to cope with our kid." He gave a half hearted laugh "It's Friday. By the time we get an appointment it'll be Monday, maybe Tuesday. Where are you staying?" He asked.

"I booked myself into a hotel this morning." She told him, standing up, still holding her stomach. "I'll book an appointment and let you know when I get it. You don't have to come with me. This can be it."

Sherlock watched her and sighed. "You didn't get yourself pregnant. I'm just as responsible. I'll easily come with you." He stood up and caught her holding her slightly swollen stomach. "Look… you're meant to be in hiding. Just.. just stay here. For a couple of days anyway, we'll get it done together and then part ways." He offered, completely guilt ridden.

She finally met his eyes and almost argued but nodded silently. "But I'm not sleeping on the sofa." She said with a small smile, finally letting her hand drop from her stomach.

"Of course not. You can have my bed and I'll sleep on the couch. Or I'll persuade.. or blackmail John into giving up his bed." Sherlock smiled slightly and rubbed his head. "I'll go Google the number for the clinic."

"Thank you..." She said sincerely, smiling a little more genuinely than she ever had. "I appreciate the...support."

Sherlock smiled a little at that and walked over to the desk again, closing the tab full of boring cases and opening a new search engine, wishing more than anything that he was on his way to start the case of "Who stole the jar of pound coins?" rather than searching for abortion clinics in London.


End file.
